


I did it for you

by CBFirestarter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark Sam Winchester, Demon Blood, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Episode: s13e23 Let the Good Times Roll, Gen, Sam Fucking Winchester, Season 13:23 Coda, Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Vessel Dean Winchester, Vessels, mentions of Dean Winchester - Freeform, mentions of Michael - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 20:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14701188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CBFirestarter/pseuds/CBFirestarter
Summary: How far will Sam go to get his brother back from Michael? Will there be any of Sam left by the time he does?





	I did it for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmandaLadyBear](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=AmandaLadyBear).



> Coda for Episode 13x23, set a few months after Michael left with Dean. I may write more of this at the behest of my friends. My girls gave me the plot bunny and I ran with it. This is a special gift for AmandaLadyBear<3

Sam watched the demon blade as it spun on his large palm. He held it up and stared at all the tiny imperfections in the handle. There were chips along the blade itself now, which considering how many bodies it has sliced through, was unsurprising. He thought back to the night Dean tried to sharpen it, and the blade only sparked and burnt his fingers. Sam had helped clean up the burns—they weren’t that bad—but Dean bitched about them for a week. Sam had endured it. He’d endure anything for Dean.

“You don’t wanna do this, Sam,” the wheezing voice came from the chair in front of him. He turned and watched his glassy eyes,—actually,  ‘eye’ singular, as one was swollen shut—of the angel staring up at him. Sam was shocked at how easy it was to capture him, but they didn’t fear the boy with the demon blood any more...jokes on them though.

“You’re right, I don’t want to do this. But I need an angel to know if this is going to work. And you picked the short straw.” Sam strode past the angel in the chair, heading to the demon shackled to the wall. He’d used demon cuffs to string them up and attached an IV drip. He was gonna do this smarter this time around. No crazed lust-filled blood drinking sessions like it was with Ruby. This time he was going to be in control, he had to be.

Sam took the blood bag from the demon and tipped it back, drinking the whole thing down. The first time he did this a month ago, drinking straight from the tap, it had sickened him. He’d even thrown some of it up. Now though...now it coursed through him with undeniable power. He could feel it from his fingertips to the soles of his feet.

“If Dean could see you now,” cooed a soft feminine voice from behind him, and he turned to see Rowena standing in the doorway to the dungeon. He licked the blood off his lips and dropped the blood bag, his other hand still gripping the demon blade.

“If he was here I wouldn’t have to be doing this, would I?” Sam retorted and flexed his hands, feeling the height and power of his six-foot-four frame stretch.

“And you think this what big brother would want, is it?” She raised a perfectly sculpted brow at him.

“He doesn’t get a vote on stupid ideas, not after he… not after he said yes.” Sam walks over toward the table and, with a hard thrust that makes even  her jump, buries the blade into the wood. “If you’re just going to try and talk me out of it, I will tell you what I told Mary, what I told Bobby, and what I told Jack. This is my problem and my brother. I get to decide how far I go.”

He cracked his neck and shook out his hands, feeling the static energy tingling through him as he stalked toward the angel.

“Samuel, if you go down this road, what is there going to be left of you for your brother to come home to?” 

Sam felt the bubbling rage in his chest. Rage at Dean for saying yes, at Lucifer for forcing his hand, at Castiel for not stopping Dean, even at Jack for not killing Michael when he had the chance. None of that compared to the rage he felt for himself, for not being able to stop any of it, for being powerless, again. He was done with it.

“That’s Dean’s problem to deal with, not mine. Now either you help me, or you get the hell out of my way,” he snarled at her. True to form, Rowena just steadied her gaze at him.

“You’re  a bloody fool, you know that. For the record I think this is a tremendously stupid idea.” Rowena stepped over to him and eyed his chest. “Shirt off, handsome.” Sam tugged at the flannel, pulling it up and over his head as the t-shirt quickly followed. He had a smattering of blood on his hands and forearms, but his chest was bare and clean.

She had to reach up to place her hands over his chest, and they were light as a feather touch on his skin. The muscles felt tight and rigid. She began chanting as a bright purple light shot through him, coursing through his veins. It burned, like someone had poured acid over his skin. He groaned, struggling for breath, struggling to contain the burning energy she was forcing into him. Her voice rose to a crescendo and Sam let out a guttural roar, staggering back from the powerful blow to his chest. He gasped in air and felt the pull and stretch of unbridled power within. He felt strong, he felt unstoppable, he felt like he could burn the whole damn world to the ground if he wanted to.

A grin stretched across his face as he looked down into the wary eyes of the red-headed witch who was slowly backing away from him. Turning, he caught the eyes of the angel slumped in the chair. He was such a weakling. The angel left to guard the gates of Heaven, and all he had done was play on the swings and drink whiskey. Heaven wouldn’t miss him, which almost irked Sam. He wanted Heaven to feel the loss, feel the pain of one more angel biting the dust at his hand.

He tore the angel's shirt open with a hard rip. “Please, you don’t wanna do this Sam, you're one of the good guys, please,” the pitiful angel pleaded.

Sam stood back and reached out with his hand, feeling through the power at his core for the angel within. He imagined wrapping his strength around the twitching, moving celestial light and began to pull. It felt like a boulder that didn’t want to move and the screams from the angel echoed in the small room. Sam didn’t care—he didn’t care how much it hurt, he only cared if it worked. He stared at the screaming man and for a moment saw Dean, saw pleading damp green eyes looking out him. Saw his brother begging to be saved, and gave a scream as he ripped the angel from its vessel in a flash of light burning up to the ceiling.

Sam didn’t even stagger, didn’t even need to shield his eyes. He was beyond that now. He looked at the slumped form of the man in the chair and reached out, lifting his chin. The eyes blinked open, staring up at Sam, looking shocked and confused, but very much alive.

“Well that’s not something you see everyday,” Rowena’s voice came from behind him, a mix of awe and possibly fear.

There was a thumping of footsteps and he looked up to see Castiel storming into the room, his blue eyes blazing as he took in the scene around him. 

“Sam, what have you done? Did you kill Indra?” Castiel advanced toward him, but with a flick of his wrist, Sam slammed the angel up against the wall. He stalked toward him with a relaxed, predatory stride. The angel glared at him, struggling against Sam’s power.

“I only did what needed to be done, Cas. I’m going after my brother, and I am going to tear that angelic son of bitch out of him if it's the last thing I do. Now are you with me?” He held his face uncomfortably close to the angel’s, letting him feel the full power within him now.

“Demon blood, Sam? When your mother told me you’d gone off the rails, I never imagined… There may be no coming back from this, Sam. I promised your brother I’d watch out for you and-”

“And what, huh? Promises mean nothing if he’s dead, if he’s just a damn meat suit. All this time he said no, he never let him in, because he believed in me, he believed in us and that we could find a way together. I let him down, Cas, he fell on his sword to save me again and I will tear this whole damn world apart to bring him back. What happens after that… what happens when he gets back, we will deal with when we come to it.” Sam took a calming breath, turning his gaze to Rowena and then back to Castiel. “You're either in or you’re out.”

“Sure, why the hell not, just another sacrificial Winchester scheme, must be Tuesday,” Rowena rolled her eyes. Sam gave her a quick nod and leaned in to Cas, staring him down.

Cas squinted. “This is foolish, and reckless, bound to end in nothing but pain and tragedy…” Castiel let out a long sigh. “But when has that ever stopped us before?”

Sam grinned at him, giving him a slap on the cheek and releasing his hold so the angel slumped back to the ground. Sam reached for his shirt, and as he turned to go, Castiel called from behind him, “What do you intend to say to Dean, if we do get him back? How will you explain to him why you did this?”

Sam paused, thinking of the look on Dean’s face, the disappointment and betrayal he would see there when he realized that demon blood was coursing through his brother’s veins. The abomination he had turned himself into. And what would he say? He’d say the truth, the only truth he really knew… _ I did it for you _ .

“We leave in ten,” Sam barked. Snatching the Impala keys, he headed toward his destiny, toward his brother, with fire in his veins.


End file.
